


Pride

by OtakuElf



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Other, Pride Demons (Dragon Age), Smuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-08 20:05:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtakuElf/pseuds/OtakuElf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written from the prompt generator that JanieJanine sent me from "If we kill them we get their prompts".  Thank you very much!</p><p>Pride Demon<br/>Athenril</p><p>"make a wish on a shooting star"</p>
    </blockquote>





	Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Written from the prompt generator that JanieJanine sent me from "If we kill them we get their prompts". Thank you very much!
> 
> Pride Demon  
> Athenril
> 
> "make a wish on a shooting star"

Athenril felt a surge of admittedly smug satisfaction. No, she had to go further than that. It was pride. And well earned too. A year ago her gang had been small time, tiny jobs, relatively unnoticed by the Coterie. Now they were big time, a threat, and there was no telling where the gang might go as they expanded their operations. The Elvhen smuggler remembered sitting on the docks with Marion Hawke back then, watching the dark, night sky. Marion had laughingly told Athenril to make a wish on a star falling across the sky above the harbor. She could see two stars, the one in the sky, and the other drifting through ripples in the night black water.

A whiff of judgment claimed her. It had been Hawke who had initially inspired their success. Athenril faltered as memory of the last argument. Hawke and her sister had quit after their year was up – Hawke’s voice in the back of her head, “Maker, Athenril! We chose to work for you because you had some scruples! No drugs, no slaves. Now you’re dealing in Lyrium? When did that change?”

Hurt pride brought a scowl. Who was Hawke to judge her? How dare she? Lyrium was only a danger to those bloody arrogant templars, and if they wanted it so much, the gang could make good coin providing it. Athenril would build an empire in Kirkwall, and Messere bloody Hawke was not going to tell her how to do it.

A bump from behind jarred Athenril from her thoughts. Jenak, her second, had tripped carrying a crate of Orlesian fabrics and knocked against the pile of stacked crates that Athenril was using as a desk. “Jenak!” Athenril snapped, ‘How in the void did you hurt yourself this time?”

Jenak set the crate on another stack of the wooden cubes and rubbed at the bleeding cut on his arm. “Don’t know, Athenril, must have been a nail.”

“Well, don’t bleed on the merchandise!” Athenril felt her irritation disappearing and she turned her attention back to the neat rows of figures in the books on the boards before her.

The Elvhen smuggler was not permitted to notice Jenak’s smirk as he moved away, the blood on his skin consumed by the spell. Power was a wonderful thing, he reflected, but well deserved on his part. Free Marchers looked down on him, calling him ‘Dog Lord’. Jenak was of Noble Blood, a Fereldan, and he should be a lord. He would become a lord as his plans succeeded.

Control of the demon gave him powers, control of others, women - Jenak thought of the two Freldan women, the Hawke sisters. They were of noble blood as well. It was a pity they had left the smugglers' band. Jenak could have done so much with the mage, could have traded her sweet blood for even more power, though her sister, the _Thief_ , he sneered silently, had the dragon’s share of pride.

Soon he would be able to give Athenril over to feed the demon, and he would take control. Perhaps he would have Athenril kill Marion Hawke. The Elf’s pride would make it easy to bring about. He could make her believe that Marion was stealing from them, and then Bethany would be unprotected, available. The mage would be enjoyable as a partner if she could be trained the right way, and if not – well, then there was always the need for more blood.


End file.
